Pretty Shiny Things
by mmouse15
Summary: Two young mechs are out on a dark night and stumble onto each other.


Title: Pretty Shiny Things

By: mmouse15

Rating: T

Warnings: Young mechs 'discovering' each other.

Pairing Wanted: Fireflight/Scavenger

Rating Wanted: Any

Song Wanted: Simple Plan's "Take My Hand"

Three things you'd like to see in your story: Fireflight taking control. Whatever else fits the song in your mind.

Three things you don't want to see: Rape, torture. Forcing the fic to exactly mirror the lyrics, I'd prefer them to just be a general guide.

A/N: I'm pretty unfamiliar with both characters, so apologies for any OOC-ness. My information on Scavenger comes from my friend, Dreaming of Everything and her fabulous story, Sheer Dumb Luck; akisawana is the source for most of Fireflight's character. I hope this fulfills some of your request…

This was another July 08 rare pairing story - I was a backup writer, so this was done quickly. I like it, however.

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Scavenger carefully transformed, keeping close to the shadows. Hook had impressed upon him the importance of staying hidden, not revealing himself; but Mixmaster needed the chemicals Scavenger had come to find, and Scavenger felt that his contributions to the team were so small that any request given him was done as quickly as he could. He sidled down a long passage between two buildings, keeping to the shadows. A noise caused him to freeze, the only motion his tail nervously twitching.

"Who's there?" came the whisper. "Silverbolt?"

Scavenger activated his scanner and found an energy signature he did not recognize tucked into the darkest corner. He carefully moved closer. A figure lunged from the dark, and he was startled to find his arms full of mech. The unknown mech was wrapped tightly around him, shivering. Instinctively, he returned the hug, wrapping his arms and tail around the stranger.

"Oh, Silverbolt, I'm sorry. I got lost, and I don't know how to get back, and I'm sorry!"

Scavenger bit back a groan as the hands on his back moved over some of his sensor array, sending a spike of feeling through his processor. He turned his head slightly, to move his mouth closer to the unknown mech's audios, and whispered, "I'm not Silverbolt."

A moment of stillness, then a flurry of arms and a flash of wings before the mech was hidden in the dark corner again. Scavenger reached out a hand, crouching down and tucking his tail close to make himself smaller.

"Hey now, I'm not going to hurt you. It's OK."

A muffled whimper and scuffling noises reached him, indicating that the mech was trying to get further back into the shadows. Scavenger withdrew a short distance, keeping himself low and trying to figure out what to do. He didn't know a Silverbolt, but that didn't mean much since he didn't know most of the army. Gestalt teams such as his had a tendency to keep to themselves, having no need of others for company or comfort. He continued to murmur meaningless phrases, inching closer, reaching for the mech. Finally, a hand cautiously touched his, and he waited, patiently, to see what would happen, whispering, "Yes, take my hand. It's OK. "

The mech inched out, his hand sliding deeper into Scavenger's. White and red and Scavenger couldn't ever recall seeing this mech before, and his pump was stuttering in his chest, because why hadn't he ever noticed such a beautiful creature, all wings and shiny plates and fearful face.

Fireflight looked into the black face of the mech holding his hand and very gently tugging him out of the corner. His expression was difficult to read, the construction of his face not allowing much to show, but he radiated good will. Fireflight had merely seen the shape of the helmet and had jumped to conclusions. Silverbolt was white and red like Fireflight, but this mech had much darker colors. Fireflight gasped as his hand was thoroughly engulfed in the other's warm grasp. He was fascinated by the panels that covered both the palm and back of the hand, and he took that hand in both of his, exploring by touch the joints and folds of the hand.

Scavenger couldn't believe what was happening. This unknown mech was exploring his left hand as if nothing else existed in the world, feeling every crease and curve of his hand, his expression absorbed and a smile on his lips. He felt his arm growing warmer from the movements of the other. He couldn't bite back the groan that escaped him when the flyer moved from his hand to his arm, investigating the forearm. Startled, the white mech looked up at him, saying, "I'm sorry. Did that hurt?"

Scavenger couldn't keep the surprise from his voice as he answered, "No. No, it felt good. Do…do you want to feel?"

The white mech thought about the question for a few moments, then nodded. Scavenger took the white hand in both of his and began to explore, carefully moving over the hand and then the arm, moving closer until he could reach behind and glide a hand over the wing that was under the arm. A loud gasp indicated that he'd found a sensitive area, and he moved closer, bringing his other hand into play on the opposite wing.

Fireflight's processor was suddenly thrown into a whirl of heat and excitement. He'd never imagined that someone else touching his wings would feel so good. He brought his hands up to the shoulders of the mech in front of him, stroking the vents on his shoulders. The answering groan was music to his audios, and he continued to move his hands, exploring the shape of the head, the shoulders, the odd panels on the back of the shoulders. He felt something touch his tailfin and he jumped forward, startled.

"Sorry, sorry, didn't mean to startle you." The dark mech soothed.

"What is that?" Fireflight was curious. No one he knew could reach around that far.

"It's my tail." Came the quiet response.

"You have a tail? Can I see?" The Aerialbot was fascinated. A tail? He knew there were mechs with visors, even with face masks, but he didn't know anyone with a tail.

Scavenger found himself to be shy, but turned slightly to show his shovel tail to the other mech.

"Wow! That's really neat! Can I touch it?" The white mech's hands were hovering over the tail, outlining its shape.

"Um, sure," came the answer.

Fireflight gently touched the arm of the shovel, running a hand along the length to the scoop. A shiver ran up the tail to the body leaning against him, and Fireflight had a flash of recognition. This tail was as sensitive as his wings! Delighted, he once again stroked the tail.

Scavenger was panting now, trying to dispel the heat building in his frame. He'd never had anyone touch his tail like this before – it felt so good! He twisted in the other mech's arms, bringing his hand up to stroke over the chest plates while his lower hand returned to the wing. He shifted slightly, moving his leg between the other mech's legs, pressing against the white thigh to balance himself.

Fireflight was delicately running one hand over the sensor arrays of the dark mech's tail, while his other hand explored the back of the mech curled around him. He ran a thumb over the hinge of the tail and was rewarded with a groan and a press of the leg between his own. Smirking slightly, he did it again and then answered with a groan of his own as the mech ran his hand over the trailing edge of his wing, gently manipulating the flaps. Warnings flashed across his vision, his frame unable to dispel the building heat.

Scavenger's vision was whiting out, the touches along his sensors overwhelming his processor with information and heat. The white mech seemed to sense his imminent overload and ran his fingers down the lower arm of his tail right to the scoop, then ran his fingers and thumb along the sides. With a shriek, Scavenger lost control and fell headlong into overload, his vision flaring white and collapsing into darkness, his fingers tightening on the flaps of the wing while his other hand dug into a vent on the chest. The white mech overloaded with a squeal, his hand tightening on the tail.

Fireflight came back online sometime later. His fingers were still buried in the other mech's back, and their configuration had kept them both up, curled awkwardly around each other. Carefully, he began to extract his hand.

Scavenger awoke to fingers ghosting over still-sensitive wires in his back. Groaning, he began to straightened, stopping when a voice said, "Stop. You'll catch my fingers. Give me a moment." The fingers continued to wiggle inside his plating until finally they were withdrawn. He stood up, his eyes downcast.

"That was nice," the white mech told him, stepping into a hug that Scavenger found himself returning, wrapping his arms around the flyer.

"I…yes, it was very nice."

"My name's Fireflight. What's yours?"

"Scavenger."

"Ooo. Do you find things?"

Scavenger found himself laughing. This mech was so carefree, he seemed to have whatever crossed his processor come out his vocalizer with no filter between the two. "Yes, I find things."

"Good name then." Fireflight snuggled into the dark chassis.

"Where are you stationed? I haven't seen you around the Nemesis before."

A silence descended. Scavenger found himself wrapping the white mech closer, bringing his tail around. A very quiet voice came, "I'm…on the Ark."

The Constructicon puzzled over this, and asked, "You mean, you're an Autobot?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

A longer silence, broken only by their cooling fans continuing to work. Finally, Fireflight gently stepped back.

"I guess that means you're a Decepticon."

"Yeah, it does."

"I'm sorry."

Scavenger found himself frustrated with his processor. It wasn't fast enough, it didn't have enough data to give him the words he needed. "Please…" static breaking his plea. Fireflight responded to his pain and once again moved into his arms, clinging to him. Scavenger buried his face against the white neck, grief running through him. He'd finally found someone that didn't make fun of him, didn't call him worthless, was delighted to be with him, and he belonged to the enemy. Pain and grief caused his ventilation to hitch, static shorting out his vocalizer.

Fireflight cuddled Scavenger, running soothing hands along his back. He'd been so fun! He didn't make fun of the flyer for being lost, for forgetting where he was going and what he was doing because some pretty shiny thing caught his attention. No, he'd soothed Fireflight's panic, had been a comfort, had touched Fireflight and shown him the delight that came from having someone touch him gently.

Finally, Scavenger broke away, his face mask retracting and his visor withdrawing into the sides of his helm. Fireflight smiled at the young face that came out.

"I need…I need to finish my task. And you need to go home." Scavenger told him, continuing to keep the white hands in his own.

"Yes. I guess." 'Flight squeezed back, his fingers tangling with construction mech's.

Scavenger raised his hand, taking Fireflight's with him and pointed, "The Ark is that way, about 200 kliks. Once you get going, you should be able to call. Wait…wait a few kliks, OK? I need to be here, and I don't need…"

"You don't need to be shot at."

"Yeah."

Fireflight slowly untangled himself, stepping back. He gazed at Scavenger, writing the image to his permanent memory banks. He raised a hand in farewell, then leaped into the air, transforming as he went, his thrusters engaging, taking him away.

Scavenger had raised his own hand, waving good-bye, the jet leaving quickly. He dropped his hand, bowing his head momentarily.

He finally raised his head, his visor and face mask covering him again. He straightened his shoulders and concentrated. Back to the job, back to his life. If only…

The End.


End file.
